


Pieces out of Puzzle Pictures

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: Resolution19 [54]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5 and 1, Accidental Marriage, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Getting Together, It's one of those two tags!, M/M, druids made them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: Gwaine took a deep swig of his own glass of ale. "Tell me what's wrong.""I'm married to Arthur," Merlin told his glass miserably.Gwaine slapped him heartily on the back and Merlin almost fell off his stool. "Finally! Hey!" he called to the barkeeper. "A round for everyone; my friend just got married!" A loud chorus of cheers echoed around the pub.Merlin dropped his head on the table in resignation.Or, 5 People Arthur and Merlin Had to Tell, and 1 They Didn'tSequel to "Rings that were Too Small for Fingers"
Relationships: Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Resolution19 [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275806
Comments: 23
Kudos: 584





	Pieces out of Puzzle Pictures

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rings that were Too Small for Fingers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19133416) by [DoctorTrekLock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock). 



> Prompt: Rings that were Too Small for Fingers ([x](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19133416))  
> Source: December is a month of remixes and sequels  
> Title: "Hector the Collector" by Shel Silverstein
> 
> Originally posted December 19, 2019 on [Tumblr](https://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/189768838492/pieces-out-of-puzzle-pictures-december-19-2019)

1.

Gwaine found Merlin in the pub about three hours after Arthur had thrown him out of his chambers in frustration. Arthur was frustrated because he was somehow married to _Merlin_ of all people. Merlin was frustrated because Arthur seemed to think it was all _his_ fault.

So, yeah. Pub.

And not just any pub, but his favorite pub. The bestest pub in all of Camelot. Because they got so many knights and lords through their doors that they didn't care that he was the Court Sorcerer. They didn't care who he was at all. Not like Arthur did.

"Uh-huh," Gwaine agreed.

Merlin figured he'd probably been babbling out loud a little.

"Yep!" Gwaine said cheerfully. "Now, I'm all for drinking, you know that, Merlin, but you're not usually so far in your cups." He took a deep swig of his own glass of ale. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm married to Arthur," Merlin told his glass miserably.

Gwaine slapped him heartily on the back and Merlin almost fell off his stool. "Finally! Hey!" he called to the barkeeper. "A round for everyone; my friend just got married!" A loud chorus of cheers echoed around the pub.

Merlin dropped his head on the table in resignation.

2.

If anyone asked, the first person Merlin told was his mother. Well, maybe Gaius. But really. His mother.

Hunith was in town, after all. Ealdor had been hard on her after Merlin left, even with the other villagers looking out for her. And with Cenred's constant, overbearing taxation... Well, when her son landed a cushy job at court against all odds, it made sense to pack up the house and move into chambers in Camelot where she could be nearer to her dear son and her brother.

Arthur had promoted her to head of the household - likely out of self-defense - and Hunith had settled quickly into her new role as matriarch and overlord to all the various servants who worked within the castle.

Merlin knew right where to find her. As he descended the castle, he could hear familiar humming. The melody led him to the kitchens, where Hunith was holding court with Cook and a few of the serving girls.

He leaned against the doorway and watched with a grin as his mother dropped the last few ingredients into a pot of broth. The rich smell transported him back to two dozen winters in Ealdor, where the wind would howl outside the walls and rattle the window panes, but their house was warm and snug and smelled of home. It seemed a little out of place, considering the August heat, but Merlin knew he would treasure it come November.

Cook caught sight of him first. Merlin could almost see the "dratted boy" forming on her lips before she remembered his promotion. "My lord," she said instead, inclining her head the bare minimum required.

"Cook!" he greeted her cheerfully in reply.

At their words, Hunith looked up from her soup, music halting as she said "Merlin, what a surprise! Is there anything you need?"

Merlin laughed and ducked his head. "No, mother, I'm fine. I, uh," he hesitated. "I would like to speak with you, if you've got time."

"I've got plenty of time," she said. "The broth just needs to simmer for a few hours. Theresa," she continued, turning to Cook, "would you mind keeping an eye on this for me?"

"Not at all," Cook said, while Merlin was mouthing 'Theresa' to himself.

"Thank you ever so much." Hunith wiped her hands on her apron. "Now, Merlin. What was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Um. Well it's...uh," Merlin stammered. "Can we go somewhere else?"

"Of course," Hunith said, but Merlin could hear her surprise. There was little he had to say that wouldn't make it to the kitchen staff eventually, and both of them knew that. Nevertheless, she followed as Merlin led her through the castle to a room he knew was both empty and off the beaten path, reducing the number of curious eavesdroppers they were likely to have.

"What's this all about, Merlin?" Hunith asked warily as he shut the door behind them.

"Well..." Merlin leaned back against the door. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it all out at once. "Arthur and I got married."

There was silence.

He chanced a peek to see Hunith still standing there, hands over her mouth and eyes watering.

He cringed. "Sor--" Merlin started, but before he could finish his apology, Hunith had moved, throwing her arms around him.

"Oh, Merlin! I'm so happy for you!"

Merlin let out a loud exhale and embraced his mother back. "Oh thank gods," he said weakly. "I thought you'd be mad."

"Mad?" she exclaimed, pulling back so she could see him properly. "Why would I be mad? My boy's getting married! I thought there was something between you and Arthur," she told him. "I knew it!"

"Um, we're kind of already married?" he chanced. "Remember Midsummer's?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "A Druidic wedding? That's so thoughtful of Arthur, considering your, well, heritage." She reached up to smooth a piece of Merlin's hair behind his ear. "I just do wish I could have been there."

"Sorry," Merlin said, hoping this was a more fitting moment for an apology. His surprise wedding and eternal marriage just seemed like the sort of thing he should have to apologize to someone for.

"Don't be," she told him. "I'm just glad you're happy. You are happy, right, Merlin?" And now she looked worried.

Any protests Merlin had about his marriage being a sham caused by accidental magic died unspoken. "Of course, mother," he said, and it was barely forced, his smile only slightly too wide to be real. "Arthur and I are both very happy."

Hunith smiled, and Merlin knew she'd believed him.

3.

"Do you remember when we were-- No, no, that won't do. Er. When two men who hadn't previously considered-- No, that's worse. How about, Weddings, huh? Who needs 'em?" Arthur gave a full-body sigh and flopped back on his overly large bed. "No, no," he muttered to himself. "That won't do at all."

Before he could compose himself, there was a knock on his door. Arthur knew this was it.

He pulled himself off the bed, straightened his tunic, and opened the door. "Lancelot, Gwen, thank you very much for stopping by." He stepped back to let them inside and shut the door again behind them.

"Of course, Arthur," Gwen told him warmly. "Anytime you ask."

"Anytime," Lancelot echoed from a half-step behind Gwen. Arthur knew that despite giving his blessing, Lancelot still wasn't quite comfortable around his king, who happened to also be his wife's former betrothed. He hoped this conversation might put any fears to rest for good.

"Er," he opened with. "Lancelot, Guinevere," he continued. Arthur hesitated, then decided to just go for it and see what he said. Nothing could be worse that what he had practiced. "We were going to get married," he blurted, then froze.

Gwen and Lancelot froze as well, wide-eyed, and Arthur could tell Lancelot was not happy with the current course of the conversation.

"And then we weren't!" he finished hastily. "And that's a good thing!" Honestly, at this point he'd swear _Merlin_ could have made less of a complete hash of this conversation. "Because you two are very good together!" He cringed.

Now Gwen just seemed amused and Lancelot was looking reassured, if a tad convinced his monarch was completely insane, which was understandable. Arthur himself was beginning to think he was a little mad.

"Er. This conversation isn't going the way I'd hoped," he admitted.

"It doesn't seem like it, no," Gwen said diplomatically. She would have made an excellent queen, Arthur thought, not for the first time. "Why don't we all take a seat over there and you can try again from the top," she offered.

Arthur thankfully accepted and they decamped to the ornamental couches by the fireplace.

Once they were settled, he took a deep breath. "The thing is..." He hesitated. This was the first time he was really saying it aloud, and it felt like if he never told anyone, it couldn't possibly be true. But Merlin said it was, and magic had strange rules and Merlin knew magic and Arthur trusted him about magic.

He closed his eyes and just said it. "Merlin and I are married." He continued quickly before they could interrupt with the questions he could see forming. "It was a Druidic ritual, we didn't realize at the time. It was a huge coincidence, really, and those sorts of things should come with warning labels--" Arthur cut himself off before he could start rambling like Merlin. "We seem to have become married," he said carefully. "And it doesn't seem reversible."

There was a moment of silence before Gwen clarified, "You didn't mean to get married to Merlin?"

"No!" Arthur exclaimed. "Not at all." He stood abruptly and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I mean, Merlin's alright," he admitted reluctantly to the fireplace. "But he's not...I mean...he's _Merlin_."

"Exactly," Gwen told him gently. "He's _Merlin_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur snapped, rounding on them.

"She means that he is Merlin," Lancelot said quietly. "And Merlin has his own rules."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked him, frustration still clinging to his voice.

"You have never treated him like a servant," Lancelot pointed out. "And you have never treated him like a knight. You treat your friends differently as well." He shrugged. "He is Merlin."

Arthur sank back into his seat. "He's Merlin," he conceded. "He doesn't really follow normal rules of logic, does he? Actually," Arthur realized, "I'm a bit surprised he hasn't been accidentally married before."

"Maybe he was waiting for the right person," Gwen said pointedly. Before Arthur could ask what she meant by that, she reached out and took one of his hands in hers. "Congratulations, Arthur, really," she told him sincerely. "Aside from Lancelot, I could not imagine two men who would be better husbands than you and Merlin."

Lancelot nodded his agreement. "There could be no better spouse than Guinevere," he told Arthur, "but if there were, it would be Merlin or yourself."

"Thanks," Arthur paused. "I think."

4.

The castle of Camelot held many secrets in her depths. Some, like the Great Dragon Kilgharrah, had been discovered. Others had not, and could only be imagined from legend and myth.

One was well-known, and regularly received visitors...and new tenants.

The crypt beneath the castle housed dozens of generations of Arthur's family. 'The Pendragon Dynasty' his mother once quoted. The rows and rows of stone sarcophagi gave the cold room an ominous finality. Arthur had been there once, as a boy, when his father's younger brother had died. He hadn't visited after that until they buried his father.

In the light of Arthur's torch, he could make out only the first few stone tombs in any direction, creating the illusion that the room was infinite, and filled with death. A shiver ran down his spine and Arthur reminded himself sternly that he left the door to the crypt propped open with a torch burning to show the way. He did not need to look back and check. He was the king of Camelot.

He glanced anyway.

The light was still burning cheerily in the doorway. Arthur absolutely did not sigh in relief as he turned back to the crypt. The stone tombs nearest him were blank and empty. He knew that one day, he would be buried here, shut beneath a stone slab and locked under his castle. The thought was enough to make his breathing quicken, so he turned the thought aside and progressed steadily through the rows of identical lithic coffins.

He had once thought to be entombed here beside Gwen. Now he supposed he would have Merlin. The thought was oddly comforting.

Finally, he stopped, just past the last blank tombs. He was standing in front of the most recent graves. _Uther Pendragon_ read one side and _Ygraine de Bois Pendragon_ listed the other. Beneath their names were their dates of death and birth and his father's years of rule. There was already dust settled on the surface of their shared tomb.

He stood in front of his parents and felt the same way he did at his coronation: daunted. He cleared his throat. The sound was muffled in the pressing darkness and thick layers of dust. "Father," he greeted, "Mother."

He imagined for a moment what it might have been like to stand before them in person and tell them his news. He imagined his mother's delight. He imagined his father's fury. While his mother's reaction was fully fictitious, his father's was all too easy to imagine. It wasn't _better_ that he had to tell them like this, but it was certainly _easier_.

"I've gotten married," he told them. "I'm a husband now. And," he hesitated, but their reactions couldn't hurt him now, "I have a husband." The words were awkward on his tongue. "It's Merlin," he said. "I'm married to Merlin." And those words were starting to make sense with enough repetition, starting to mean something.

"Father," Arthur continued, address his next words to the left side of the tomb. "I can't imagine that you would have approved. You didn't like Merlin when he was my manservant, never mind that you gave him to me." He paused. He knew Merlin would have been defiant, and that made him smirk a little. "Now that he's Court Sorcerer, I imagine you'd like him even less.

"Mother." He turned toward the other side, imagining he was likewise ignoring his father's blistering response. "I think you would have loved him," Arthur told her honestly. "He's clever and ridiculous and just when you think he can't be serious to save his life, he turns around and says the wisest thing you've ever heard," he told his mother, in the deep depths of Camelot's crypt. "He makes me a better man and a better king."

And over the sound of his father's imaginary rant, Arthur could almost hear his mother's voice. _I'm proud of you_.

5.

Merlin didn't exactly _mean_ for Gaius to be the last person that he told. Gwaine had just happened to be there. And then there was his mother, and then it turned out Arthur had told Gwen and Lancelot already, which was probably for the best, considering. But that just meant that when he'd told them again, he'd only gotten smiles and knowing looks.

So yeah, Gaius was the last person Merlin told. Oops?

"And what have you been up to these days?" Gaius asked him over a bowl of stew. Since his promotion, Merlin had moved out of Gaius's back room to his own chambers in one of the castle's towers, which Gwaine had absolutely _not_ taken to calling the Wizard's Tower. Because that would be inaccurate, and Merlin had told him that. _Repeatedly._ So now he came down a few nights a week for dinner instead, usually with Hunith, but she was helping a new servant settle in that night and couldn't make it, so it was just Merlin and Gaius.

"Well, I'm trying to figure out how easy it would be to divert some of Arthur's linens to my tower," Merlin told him. "I mean, I don't think we'll be sharing a bed soon, but I don't need the feather mattress, just a few thick woolen blankets. And maybe a couple goose-down pillows," he added, putting another spoonful of stew in his mouth and completely missing Gaius's confusion.

"What are you talking about, my boy?" Gaius asked in exasperation.

"It's got to have some perks, doesn't it?" Merlin responded, fishing the last few bits of meat out of his bowl.

"What does, Merlin?"

And now Merlin looked up at him and had a Realization. "Oh, uh, Gaius," Merlin said nervously. "Didn't you hear? I'm married to Arthur." Then he quickly put a spoonful of stew in his mouth so he wouldn't have to say anything else.

"You're what?" Gaius put his spoon down entirely. "When was this?"

Merlin swallowed. "Um, Midsummer's?" he said, and it really shouldn't have been that much of a question.

"The Druids," Gaius inferred. "Well, this is surprising, but I can't say it's entirely unexpected."

Merlin dropped his spoon, splashing broth across the inside of his bowl. "Not unexpected?" he echoed.

"Oh, Merlin," Gaius told him fondly. "You did drink poison for the boy, you know. On top of everything else," he said pointedly. "And don't think I don't know exactly how many times you almost died for him."

"But he's _Arthur_ ," Merlin protested. "I couldn't let him die."

"Exactly," Gaius said, with the smug satisfaction of someone who just made an argument they know can't be disputed.

"What?" Merlin asked, beginning to feel like he was the one in this conversation who was lost.

Gaius just gave him a sort of fond, pitying look. "You'll figure it out when you're older."

Merlin just pushed away his stew bowl and dropped his elbows to the table before burying his head in his arms. He was so done with this conversation, he thought sourly as Gaius chuckled.

+1

"Why have you summoned me here, young warlock?" Kilgharrah's wingspan blotted out the stars for a moment before he folded them around himself and settled into the clearing Merlin had called him to.

Merlin scowled. "First off, I'm not that young anymore. Second--"

Kilgharrah laughed. "Next to me, Merlin, you will always be young."

Merlin's scowl deepened. "Second," he continued pointedly, "There was something I wanted to tell you."

"What is it?" Kilgharrah asked, amusement running through his words.

"There was a Druidic ritual. On--"

"Midsummer's, yes."

"How...how did you know that?"

"Every magical creature knew about that, Merlin. When the Once and Future King and Emrys become bonded, _everyone_ knows."

Merlin paused. "So you already know everything."

"Of course," Kilgharrah said. "Did I not tell you that you were two sides of the same coin? This was foretold, young warlock."

"I'm not talking to you anymore," Merlin informed him before turning on his heel and walking out of the clearing, muttering under his breath about dragons and old magic.

Kilgharrah's laughter just echoed around him.

Bonus:

A high-pitched giggle broke through the din and Merlin had to force his fingers to relax enough to set down his glass without shattering it. It was Arthur's thirtieth birthday and all the neighboring kingdoms had sent their unwed princesses and noble ladies to the festivities in the hopes of capturing the king's attention. It was October, three months since Midsummer's and two months and change since Arthur and Merlin realized what had happened on Midsummer's. And everyone still considered Arthur to be the most eligible bachelor in Britain.

Merlin ground his teeth together as another shrill squeal rose over the general cacophony of the room. From two seats down, Gwen shot him a sympathetic look. _Almost_ everyone, he amended. There were a handful who knew, those who had been personally told by one of the pair. Everyone else, Merlin winced as a laugh reached truly glass-shattering pitch, had no clue.

He glared down the other end of the table. Two of Bayard's daughters had come down from Mercia and were attempting to monopolize Arthur. They were the source of the _unpleasant_ disruptions. A third woman seated nearer to Arthur was attempting a more civilized conversation with him. She was from Mora, if he remembered correctly, a distant kingdom, thus affording its emissaries higher status.

Merlin scowled at his beans and tried not to hate her for bumping him from his customary seat directly to Arthur's right. It was only temporary. Once the party was over, they would all leave and Merlin could have his chair back. _Not if he marries one of them,_ a voice said quietly in the back of his mind. _Then it's permanent._

Merlin firmly told the voice to shove off.

He looked down the table again and met Arthur's eyes. To anyone else, Arthur appeared courteous and interested, the very picture of a dashing young king. To Merlin's eyes, he looked irritated and stressed. Merlin could read the plea for rescue in his eyes.

Well, Merlin wasn't going to sit here and watch. No. He was the godsdamn Court Sorcerer and he was going to rescue his king. Again.

Merlin stood up with a huff and started walking down the table to Arthur, past a half-dozen heiresses and duchesses. Who did they think they were? Coming into Camelot with their name and their wealth and hoping to take home a crown? Arthur wasn't shallow; not unless he was enchanted.

One of Bayard's daughters, the one seated directly on Arthur's left, reached over to pull him from his conversation, putting her hand on his arm.

How _dare_ she? Merlin thought in a rage, barely keeping his instinctive magic in check. She shouldn't be touching him like that. _Merlin_ should be the only person-- _Oh._

Merlin stopped dead two chairs away from Arthur, his magic similarly halted in astonishment. He was peripherally aware of Arthur's concern, hidden behind a smile, and the curious whispers of the eligible ladies he was standing behind. But none of it mattered, because he...

Merlin abruptly realized what Gaius had been trying to tell him. Why his mother hadn't been surprised. What Gwen and Lancelot's knowing looks had been about. He'd bet Arthur's kingdom that if he were to look behind him, he'd see the same look on Gwen now.

And suddenly Merlin knew exactly what he had to do.

He locked eyes on Arthur, stepped forward, put his hands on either side of Arthur's face, bent down, and kissed him. On the mouth. In front of the entire court and representatives from several kingdoms besides.

The room immediately fell silent. Then Merlin couldn't tell if there were whispers or if it was just the buzzing in his ears.

Arthur's lips were rough and warm and, after a moment, opened easily under his.

When he pulled back, Arthur looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time, which shouldn't have been possible, because Merlin could swear Arthur had looked at him like that before, the first time Merlin did magic in front of him, and surely at some point Arthur would have seen all of him. He wasn't sure what Arthur saw when he looked at Merlin, but he figured it was probably terror or exhilaration. And maybe something like love.

"Pardon me," the princess from Mora said faintly, and Merlin magnanimously decided that he liked her.

"Excuse me," Arthur told her politely, standing up and taking Merlin's hand as if he'd been doing it for years. "It appears I have some unfinished business with my husband."

Arthur looked radiant as he said it, and Merlin knew his own grin was in danger of splitting his face. His magic bubbled excitedly inside him, and he wanted to laugh in joy.

"Don't stay on my account," she said politely. Bayard's daughters seemed to have fallen into a stunned silence. They would definitely be inviting Mora's princess back.

"C'mon, _Mer_ lin," Arthur said and tugged him along behind him to the nearest door.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Arthur pushed him back against it and kissed him again. Through the thick planking, Merlin could hear the hall burst back into riotous noise, and he grinned into the kiss.

Next Midsummer's, he and Arthur were totally hanging out with the Druids again.


End file.
